


The Warmest Color

by queeryuki



Category: La Vie d'Adèle | Blue is the Warmest Color (2013)
Genre: Canon Lesbian Relationship, Cheating, Depression, F/F, Lesbian Sex, Love Stories, Making Out, Oral Sex, Scissoring, Vaginal Fingering, Vanilla
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-15
Updated: 2015-02-15
Packaged: 2018-03-12 23:29:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3359309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queeryuki/pseuds/queeryuki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Adèle’s empty life gains meaning when she meets a blue-haired girl, Emma. A lesbian story of love, lust, and loss.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Blue

**Author's Note:**

> I loved this movie for making you care about the characters just before ruining them (and the graphic novel is much sadder!). My heart felt crushed a whole day after I watched this. I loved their relationship, and it’s so hard to find healthy porn movies. I decided to write a fic to practice my sex scenes, but the whole story is important. I experimented by leaving out dialogue. A song I think fits Emma and Adèle’s relationship is “Ya Soshla S Uma” by t.A.T.u.

Adèle had never fucked a girl before. A guy inside of her couldn’t fill the void within her. Her emptiness was pervasive. School friends were just people she smoked and drank and attended student protests with. She felt nothing for the boy who bought her a crepe then took her home for sex. His kisses and touches bored her. Her moans were fake and she had the urge to roll her eyes at his lust. What could he see in her? She was just an average girl. She wasn’t even beautiful and her hobbies were usual. Adèle was just an empty body that he thrust inside of.

But she felt something the afternoon she’d met the blue-haired girl. The smile on her face was radiant and so was her beauty. It seemed she had an inner light that lit not only her but her companions. Adèle wondered if that was what happiness looked like. She dreamed of the girl’s hands all over her, igniting a bewildering passion within her. But that was ridiculous; the girl would never fuck Adèle. She’d seen Adèle in town but didn’t know her.

That wet dream had left her susceptible to the flirting of a straight friend, who’d kissed her on the school steps but pretended nothing had happened the next day. Adèle’s heart bled from the betrayal. Her feelings spiraled into the void, into the dark dangerous place where not living was a temptation. The only person she trusted with her emotions was her gay friend, so he took them clubbing. It was the first time she had seen men kissing so blatantly, without shame. They all looked so fulfilled. She knew she was jealous.

Adèle still felt conspicuously isolated. She always did, really. The emptiness was her constant companion. While her gay friend was partying, her eyes strayed to the club across the street where dykes grinded with abandon. In the window, a long-limbed girl with bright eyes slipped her hand down the collar of a ginger goth girl. Adèle wondered if that would arouse her. Her heart jumped and she entered the lesbian club almost as if enchanted.

The blue-haired girl could be there.

There she was, seated at the bar. Adèle couldn’t look away. A woman in her twenties or thirties sat next to Adèle and proceeded to flirt. That was when the blue-haired girl sauntered over and introduced Adèle as her cousin. Lesbian for: back off, she’s mine. The blue-haired girl, whose name was Emma, had a half-smile even though Adèle’s responses were dull. Adèle couldn’t help smiling back. Emma seemed to find everything funny, and her laugh-oh, her _laugh_ -was coy. She seemed to be interested in Adèle’s life, not just her body. When Emma talked, she was animated. A college student studying art; the blue hair made sense now.

 

Adèle didn’t know how to react when Emma showed up near the school gates. She stood frozen in indecision before leaving her friends and greeting Emma. Surely Adèle hadn’t been so interesting that Emma wanted to continue their relationship! Emma led her to a park where they talked, wind tendrils stroking their hair. Adèle realized that her dream had meant something; she _wanted_ Emma. She wanted to kiss Emma’s teasing smile and stare into those radiant hazel eyes while shuddering, hands gripping her short blue hair. It was worth it even though her friends accused her of being a pussy-sucking dyke.

Adèle wasn’t sure what she was. She only knew that Emma was the most interesting person she had ever met.

 

The girls couldn’t stop calling each other-the way they thought was so similar and interesting-and found every excuse to hang out. Emma took her to an art museum featuring nude sculptures and paintings. Was this an artist’s way of flirting? Adèle ravaged her ham sandwich at the park during their engaging conversation. After eating they lay on a blanket and blew smoke at the trees above. Adèle’s eyes touched the other girl’s sensuous breasts. The girls stared into each other’s eyes as their hearts beat. Adèle licked her lips self-consciously and smiled coyly. Emma smiled back. Her lips were so inviting, full and pink.

Adèle leaned over and kissed the blue-haired girl softly. Her heart sang with joy. Emma tasted wonderful.

 


	2. Falling

Cinnamon candles flickered in Emma’s bedroom and splashed the silhouettes of two embracing girls on the wall. Both kneeled on the bed, their naked bodies pressed together. Adèle reveled in the smoothness of Emma’s skin. She felt more aroused during this foreplay then during penetration with a man. Men hadn’t cared how _she_ felt; they just wanted to get off on her. Emma’s thin hands stroked the curve of her back and her ass while Adèle groped her boobs.

Their lips touched, this time hotter and wetter. Emma’s kiss moved down to Adèle’s voluptuous bosom, suckling her nipples. Adèle’s chest heaved and she threw her head back, moaning louder than expected, surrendering to the warm sensations. Then Emma’s head moved even lower as she licked and nibbled Adèle’s tender pussy. Her hands tangled in her lover’s blue hair.

Now it was Adèle’s turn to kiss Emma all over. It pleased Adèle to hear Emma pant as her eyes closed in pleasure while grinding against Adèle’s probing fingers. Pushing Emma to the bed, Adèle continued to lick and knead her lover’s round chest. Emma soon sat up and kissed Adèle’s lips, their warm tongues tangling. Adèle topped Emma, their legs pointing in opposite directions on the mussed bed.

They began to rock while Adèle’s fingers stroked Emma’s pussy. Emma grabbed Adèle’s ass for dear life as a particularly breathless groan ejaculated from her mouth. Pulling her lover back to the bed, Emma brushed Adèle’s thick brown locks from her lips before claiming them. The brown-haired girl teased her with butterfly kisses to her neck.

They switched positions, Adèle shivering as Emma licked her spine. The kissing itself was sensual, lovely. Emma’s fingers were buried in Adèle’s hole as she nipped her face. Adèle turned her head to try to kiss the older woman, but she was panting with pleasure.

As Adèle lay facedown, Emma was able to find a better angle, face pressed between her supple ass cheeks. Emma ravished her lover’s cunt, both girls rocking. For the first time, Adèle was completely in the moment. And although she had lost control of her senses, this wonderful contentment obscured the emptiness. Nothing else had ever done that. Adèle’s entire body was flaming, responding readily to Emma’s caresses and thrusts. And topping Emma was satisfying.

Adèle’s back arched and she gasped, ecstasy filling her every pore. She reached back and pushed Emma deeper, _deeper_ , to hit that paradise spot again. Now Emma hungrily clasped Adèle’s ass, searching for better access as her mouth worked.

Constant motion. Bodies rubbing, exchanging heat. Fondness, pleasure. Sex.

Adèle focused her attention on Emma’s neglected cunt. She needed Emma to moan, tottering on the verge of ecstasy. She pushed inside of Emma, rapidly bouncing her ass up and down. Even though Emma was now the recipient, Adèle was more vocal. She was on the edge, she knew it. She needed to rapidly bring Emma to the same place.

She pushed harder. Faster. Her fingers dripped with Emma’s cum, but they weren’t soaked. Yet.

Adèle’s fingers weren’t enough. With her mouth she ravaged her lover’s pussy. Emma’s face was scrunched with desire. Adèle couldn’t hold it in; she exploded, cum soaking the bed.

Now though, Adèle could focus entirely on Emma. Emma’s pelvic muscles kept tensing around her mouth. Emma’s head rolled around as waves of pleasure washed throughout her body. Adèle lifted Emma’s leg and sucked her pussy with deep strokes of her tongue. Flushed, she finished Emma off with her fingers. The blue-haired girl finally released; Adèle tasted it.

Afterwards, the girls didn’t move besides gently rubbing each other’s asses, bodies completely depleted of energy. Adèle enjoyed being so entangled. She was, for the moment, content.

 

The wonderful, all-consuming sex; Adèle wished they could have it every night. Even though Emma had been dating another girl, Emma couldn’t leave Adèle now, not when she was so hot in bed. And it wasn’t just that; they could always make each other smile. Adèle was now the girl draped around Emma as they walked down the streets of France.

Emma took Adèle to her first queer pride parade. Seeing girls and boys kiss around them made Adèle yearn to be in her lover’s bed again. She knew she should enjoy this parade, but…the wearying emptiness obscured other thoughts. Emma couldn’t see it, but inside Adèle was an acute sadness. But when Emma kissed her, endorphins obliterated the sadness.

Emma was her lifeline.

The park was a favorite meeting spot of theirs. Sweet, slow kisses while birds sang. It was beautiful; the world around them, Emma’s smile, the way Adèle could just _be_ around her. She craved Emma’s soft touch that miraculously enabled her to smile too.

 

It was time to meet the parents. Emma’s parents were supportive of her sexuality and eccentricity and they approved of her relationship with Adèle. There was no pretense; Adèle was Emma’s.

Adèle felt comfortable around her girlfriend’s accepting parents. Emma’s parents were full of smiles and laughter, qualities that had drawn her to the blue-haired girl in the first place. Her parents had old-fashioned prejudices and would probably kick her out if they realized their daughter was fucking another girl. They had prepared a fancy dinner for Adèle, not realizing she wasn’t fond of seafood. Emma showed her how to season her food to make it delectable.

It was like sex; even though Adèle had assumed she would always be with men, doing girls was much more stimulating. You just had to be with someone experienced.

Over dinner, the adults brought up their favorite topic: future plans. Adèle explained that as she loved children, she wanted to be a teacher. Emma, of course, could only be an artist.

They fucked in Emma’s room again once her parents had retired. Their legs were entangled, wet cunts deliciously rubbing. Emma kept brushing Adèle’s long locks out of her face as she panted. Adèle pulled closer, moaning as her clitoris was brushed up against, ecstasy pumping throughout their naked shaking bodies.

 

Adèle’s parents threw her a surprise birthday party. She kept a fake smile plastered on her face throughout the celebration. Emma wasn’t there; the interactions were so tiring. Adèle had always hidden her emptiness from her family and friends, but she couldn’t hide it from herself. She danced and drank and talked and pretended.

It was different when she finally invited Emma over for dinner. They couldn’t kiss in front of Adèle’s parents, pretending Emma was her tutor. Well, Emma _was_ teaching her a lot about her body…and happiness.

They tried to be quieter that night, which was itself sexy. Covering each other’s mouths so the load moans wouldn’t alert Adèle’s parents that their relationship wasn’t student-tutor. Adèle enjoyed all aspects of sex with Emma; she loved making out while being caressed as well as her pussy being roughly stroked. When Emma laid on top of her and smiled and kissed her, running her hands through Adèle’s hair, she could only beam. The lovers softly laughed about her parents’ misconceptions then fell asleep in each other’s arms.

 

Adèle laid stark naked with a cigarette in her mouth. It was almost as difficult to maintain her pose as it was for her lover to paint it. Years later, Emma was the blue-haired girl no longer. She was still riveting but had dyed her hair back to its natural shade of blonde. Teaching kindergarteners how to read French by day, Adèle slept with Emma in their apartment at night. Emma’s paintings were displayed in small local galleries, and beautiful Adèle was her subject.

Adèle supposed it was her own fault she was being hit on at work. She couldn’t be open about her relationship with Emma. Even though she wasn’t ashamed of having a girlfriend, she didn’t want other staff to ridicule her. This man was normal, just like her. His looks, and hers, were average. His interest in Adèle made sense. It was surreal that vibrant Emma had been faithfully by Adèle’s side for this many years.

She didn’t have time to worry about him anyway, Adèle reminded herself as she prepared the appetizers. Tonight was the big party where they’d would be hosting Emma’s artist friends. It was important to impress them so they would support Emma’s work.

Adèle put on a smile as she greeted the crowd, but she felt out of her league. Artists, by nature, were different. From their bright red hair to the way they psychoanalyzed the differences between male and female orgasms (this was their dinner topic) Adèle felt uncomfortable. Especially when Emma greeted the pregnant woman. From the way they stood so close together to their easy smiles and laughter, Adèle was sure she was an ex.

But the pregnant woman was still charming. She invited Adèle to rub her stomach. Adèle imagined what it would be like to carry a baby for Emma. If she did, Emma would never, ever leave her. Adèle chided herself for her doubt and jealousy, but Emma interacting with another girl like that cut her up. They raised their glasses and Emma’s lips met hers, from whence the partying started. Adèle served the spaghetti and danced, but her worried eyes kept wandering to Emma and her companion.

After washing the dishes in a tank-top that nicely featured her bosom, Adèle took her earrings off in their bedroom. Emma sat naked in bed reading an art magazine. After stripping, Adèle laid next to her lover with an expectant look. She needed Emma to touch her, to make her forget any exes. Instead, Emma stroked her hair and talked about how important debuting in this art gallery was. Adèle leaned over and kissed her, but Emma pulled away, explaining she had her period. Blood was messy and had an unappealing taste, but orgasms also relieved period cramps. Adèle’s heart dropped with disappointment but she fought to keep from showing it.

As they spooned, Adèle cocooned in Emma’s lanky arms, Adèle was kept awake with the errant thought that Emma was lying about her period to avoiding fucking that night.

 


	3. Unraveling

Adèle was beginning to unravel. The emptiness that Emma had kept had bay for so many years was rearing up again like a monster that couldn’t be slayed. What if Emma wanted to get back with her ex? Now that she was pregnant, they could even have a child like a normal family. Adèle was ordinary, pale next to Emma. Adèle surmised that Emma only stayed with her because of her body. The reason didn’t matter as long as she had Emma. But now her lover was avoiding sex? Adèle clenched her lips so she wouldn’t cry as the elementary school children slept.

Then she noticed the male teacher who kept hitting on her. He smiled at Adèle. She knew it would be simple; all she had to do was ask. What if he could make her forget? Adèle was in turmoil; she couldn’t betray Emma, but if Emma was cheating on her, then what did one night matter anyway? It wasn’t like she loved the man or even cared for him. She couldn’t love anyone the way she loved Emma.

Not even herself.

Emma wasn’t there when she returned and had left a phone message. Her lover told Adèle not to wait up for her because she had to work on her art gallery display. Adèle imagined Emma in her pregnant ex’s arms, eating the other girl out lasciviously, and internally shuddered. With some hesitation, Adèle threw on a sweater and headed to the bar.

He had invited her there to party with the other teachers, but she had never accepted before. She knew what happened at bars; that was where she had first spoken to Emma. Before they danced, Adèle removed her sweater, revealing her bust, and let her wild hair fall over her shoulders. She winced at her own obviousness but maintained a syrupy smile. She danced provocatively until her body heated, almost angrily ignoring thoughts of Emma.

The male teacher leaned closer, capturing her lips in his. _Oh God_ …this wasn’t right. His lips, they were too full, too hungry. But Adèle couldn’t move away as she felt his cock brush against her pants. He was the wrong person but his touch still lit a fire within her. Adèle threw her head back as he began nibbling her sensitive neck. If Emma had touched her last night, this would never had needed to happen.

 

Adèle sipped a large cup of tea in their bed as Emma angrily argued with a vendor. The guilt didn’t show because she knew her actions had meant nothing. Even more now Adèle appreciated how wonderful it was to have Emma. In every lithe movement as she strode about the room, Emma was beautiful. Her voice, face, and every inch of her body deserved to be showcased at the Louvre. And Emma was so affectionate. She was the only one who made Adèle feel important.

But now Emma’s art was consuming her. The stress of having a supportive and understanding vendor was eating her up. It was normal for Emma to return in the wee hours of the morning, and she was probably having an affair with her perfect ex. Adèle couldn’t bear spending her nights alone, so instead she let her coworker warm her body up, pretending that Emma was the one rubbing her. He was just a substitute; she craved Emma’s touch, but knowing _someone_ wanted her was enough to get her from day to day.

But the emptiness, it was swallowing Adèle whole, and her inhibitions with it.

 

She hadn’t expected Emma to be home that night. Adèle’s heart sunk in her chest as she noticed the expression on her lover-no, _love_ ’s face. Did she know? Adèle sifted through her mind for some excuse. She was out drinking with female coworkers and lost track of the time. No, none of them were gay. She was elated to see Emma home so early; had she finally gotten a venue? Some kisses, removing clothes and Emma’s suspicions would dissipate.

But Emma’s eyes were red-rimmed, pained. After Adèle greeted her girlfriend she remained still, silent, accusatory. When Emma asked what Adèle had been doing, her voice was quiet and hoarse. Emma had seen that black car drop her off a few houses away. She didn’t know who or why, but that didn’t matter.

In that terrible instant, Adèle realized Emma had never cheated on her. She really had been on her period that night and was only out so late to organize her display. Her ex was still an ex. And god, how Adèle loved Emma. Adèle would do whatever it took to earn Emma’s forgiveness.

But if Emma hated her now, everything was over.

Adèle protested that the man didn’t matter to her. She had only ever loved Emma! But Emma wouldn’t hear praise or admiration. She demanded to know how many times Adèle had fucked that man. Adèle swallowed and admitted it had been two or three times; she hadn’t really kept track.

Emma’s face became transformed with rage and she started to yell. She spluttered that Adèle had _dared_ kissed her with those filthy lips after sucking dick. A film of tears covered Adèle’s eyes as she whispered that it had been a mistake, please forgive her. Emma pushed her away, calling her favorite lover a whore, telling her to go to the man who was so much better.

Adèle’s face crumpled. Tears silently streamed down her face as she insisted that she didn’t care for the man; she had been feeling lonely those nights without Emma and had simply made a drunken mistake. She would never talk to the man again, she promised. Adèle buried her face in her hands. Please, Emma, please…

Adèle implored forgiveness with her eyes and hugged her love. Emma stiffened and pushed away her trembling arms. Adèle’s heart was throbbing low in her throat, a dark sound warning of impending loss. Emma felt so betrayed she wouldn’t let her lover kiss or even touch her anymore.

It was over.

Emma threw a bag out of the closet and tossed Adèle’s clothes into it. Leave, she shouted, leave forever. When Adèle tried to stand in the way, Emma shook her and screamed. She was oblivious to Adèle’s pleading and pushed her out the door before slamming and locking it.

Adèle stood on their doorstop, sobbing, desperate words tumbling out of her mouth, anything so Emma would open the door. But Emma wouldn’t listen. And Adèle couldn’t accept that it would end this way. Not when there was no one in the world who could make her feel the way Emma did.


	4. Need

The night Emma had broken up with Adèle, she wandered the streets looking for shelter. She felt small like a child again, alone in the world. Except for her companion, the darkness. The darkness that feasted on her soul. The darkness that planted seeds of doubt leading her to cheat on her lover. The darkness that broke her heart.

 

How she envied the students she taught. Their faces shone with happiness and their tears were petty. With every breath she thought of Emma. Whenever Adèle was alone her chest heaved with hot, thick tears. Even in her classroom when her students had left Adèle’s mascara ran, her chin dripped with mucus and tears, and her hair knotted as her fingers ran through it. Her heart was a burning lump of darkness that devoured Adèle’s energy and contentment. Everything was so…wearying.

Death. She craved oblivion.

Her class went on a fieldtrip to the beach and Adèle swam alone. She laid on her back, waves lapping at her face. It would be easy just to slip under the water. But her body-why was it fighting? Her muscles worked to keep her aloft, refusing to let her sink.

 

With her teacher’s paycheck Adèle could stay at a motel. It took hours for her to fall asleep in an unruffled bed aching with loneliness. She would have nightmares that Emma hated her, and she woke up drenched with sweat discovering this was true to have her heart dashed again. Her life was a waking nightmare, and even though she had her dream job, sometimes she slipped and snapped at the kids. She was a wreck. And it didn’t matter, because without Emma she was completely empty.

 

This was the park where they had fallen in love. The trees were just average, even though they had highlighted Emma’s hair with wonderful streaks of gold years ago. Now it was empty without a happy couple kissing on the park bench. But she couldn’t leave. The wind ruffled Adèle’s hair and she remembered.

 

It had been months before Emma would agree to see her again. Emma had been hurt by their messy breakup as much as she had. Adèle had shriveled up, teaching and smoking and crying with no one to see. She had managed to stay away from alcohol and drugs so far but they were tempting. Adèle had texted Emma only a few times because she didn’t want to seem obsessive. The truth was, every night she recorded a voice mail to her ex-lover before deleting it and crying herself to sleep.

 _Emma, I’m sorry. I know you don’t want to hear this again, but it was a mistake. I’ve only ever loved you…_ At that point Adèle’s voice became choked and she had to breathe deeply before speaking again. _I think about you every day. I miss you; I miss your laugh and your smile and your eyes and hair and love. I miss your body. I’m so lonely. I know you don’t care anymore but it hurts to be without you. We’re meant to be together. Please…_ But it was too desperate, and it wouldn’t achieve anything, so she couldn’t send it. And even in these deleted voice mails, she was too afraid to mention the emptiness that caused her to unravel.

They met in a café to talk. When Emma stepped into the room, all the muscles in Adèle’s body tensed. She stared at her ex like an apparition. She was so glad to see Emma but was afraid the other girl would turn just around and leave. Adèle hugged Emma and closed her eyes, imagining what their future could have been like if only she had never made that mistake. So much regret, so much pain…

Emma’s mannerisms with the same with her clear gaze and ready smiles. She was happy without Adèle. But this time, their conversation felt forced, distant, as if between two strangers. How had Emma been? Her art was going wonderful. And Adèle? Still teaching, everything was going well. But that wellness was a lie.

Their small talk went on for a few more minutes before Adèle became very conscious of Emma’s lips. They were still as plump and kissable as they had been that day in the park. Adèle’s pussy began to throb and she grabbed Emma’s hand between her own and began to suckle it. The heat she had craved shook throughout her body, demanding that their clothes be thrown off and friction be created. Emma let it go on for a bit before whispering that they should stop. Adèle could tell that she was being aroused. Whoever Emma was with now severely lacked in sexual creativity.

Emma could insist she couldn’t be with Adèle because she had another girlfriend now, but their bodies didn’t care. Adèle reached across the table and claimed Emma’s lips with hard kisses which Emma fervently returned. Under the table Adèle’s hand stroked between Emma’s legs. This was what Adèle lived for; this feeling…this frenzied, warm love…

Just as she reached for Adèle, Emma pulled away and covered her face. Emma couldn’t cheat on her lover, and she’d lost trust in Adèle after her betrayal. They could never get back together.

And, Emma didn’t love Adèle anymore.

Adèle sat in shock, tears cutting shallow rivulets down her cheeks. She thought everything could be better if only Emma felt her again. But if Emma’s feelings had been extinguished by grief…Adèle would be hollow for the rest of her life.

Adèle hugged Emma before she left the café, and that was the last time she ever touched anyone she loved.

 

Two years after, Adèle still dressed up for Emma. Hoop earrings, nail polish, cute hair and clothes that she saw no point in wearing otherwise. Emma’s art had never been displayed this grandly before. She had worked so long to get such publicity. But Adèle was too…broken…to feel excited or proud.

Even the paintings on the wall hurt, reminding Adèle of the days when she was Emma’s prized lover. Realistically rendered, beautiful naked women. Adèle knew her body didn’t compare, but what she could do with it was far superior. When she greeted Emma, the artist’s current lover recognized her and cheerfully greeted her. It was the pregnant woman-well, not so pregnant now. Emma must love playing house.

The man who ruined her life was there too. Of course no one would allow her to be alone with Emma anymore. Adèle had stopped texting Emma long ago, but she couldn’t stop thinking about her. She hated her mind and its obsession with the untouchable, desirable ex-blue-haired woman. It sickened Adèle to see how happy Emma and her lover were together. She had only come to see Emma, not the paintings. She hoped there would be a distinguishable sadness in Emma’s eyes, proving that Adèle and Emma were soulmates.

But everyone else had moved on. Adèle slipped through the crowd and lit a cigarette, welcoming the way the smoke burned her throat.

She walked into the empty abyss.


End file.
